The soft hiss of the bridge doors sliding open was quickly followed by Petra's sharp steps as she entered. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the sight of Hathor standing near the command console and her marines stationed at attention.
"I hope what you've called me here for is important," Petra said curtly, her voice sharp and her glare landing squarely on the marines. The irritation from her encounter with Sanguinia still clung to her like an unwelcome shadow.
Hathor turned to her, her expression calm but serious. "Yes, Petra. While you were occupied, we received a communication from the Emperor himself. He has ordered us to return to Terra immediately."
Petra's gaze snapped to Hathor, the irritation in her eyes giving way to confusion. 'Father calling us back to Terra? Why?' She masked her surprise with a frown, her brow furrowing deeply. "Did he give any reason for this sudden summons?" she asked, her tone measured but firm.
One of her marines stepped forward, their voice steady but carrying the weight of the message. "No, my lady. The Emperor did not provide a specific reason, only that it is a matter of great urgency. He instructed us to waste no time in our return."
Petra crossed her arms, her mind racing. 'This isn't like him. Father doesn't call me—or any of us—back to Terra without a purpose.' A dozen possibilities flitted through her mind, ranging from a political crisis to a new threat on the horizon. Yet, the lack of detail only deepened her unease.
"Is the fleet already on course?" she asked, her tone snapping into command mode.
Hathor nodded. "Yes, we initiated the return to Terra as soon as the message came through. I thought it best to inform you immediately."
"Do the others know about this?" Petra turned sharply to Hathor, her tone edged with suspicion.
"No," Hathor replied evenly, her gaze meeting Petra's. "The Emperor instructed that only a select few are to be informed at this time." She paused, her tone slightly shifting. "Including Alpharia."
The room fell silent for a moment, tension palpable between the two Primarchs. Hathor was the first to break it.
"Anyway, Petra, were you and Sanguinia engaged in some kind of argument earlier?" Hathor asked casually, though her sharp gaze suggested she already knew the answer.
Petra stiffened ever so slightly. 'How does she know?' she thought, her mind racing.
"It's not your concern, Hathor," Petra replied coolly, her tone regaining its usual strictness.
"Are you sure?" Hathor's voice carried a hint of teasing, but her eyes remained locked on Petra. "I could have sworn you were out looking for Jared."
"I indeed am," Petra responded, her expression steady as she returned Hathor's piercing gaze. "I just didn't expect Sanguinia to show up uninvited."
Hathor raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Uninvited or not, it seems she managed to steal his attention."
Petra's fists clenched at her sides, though she kept her composure. "That's hardly relevant. What matters is ensuring Jared's safety—and focus—while aboard this ship."
"Of course," Hathor replied smoothly, her smile widening ever so slightly. "I'm sure that's your only concern."
Petra narrowed her eyes, sensing the veiled implication in Hathor's words. "Whatever you're insinuating, Hathor, I suggest you drop it."
Hathor chuckled softly and pushed off the console, turning to leave the room. "Relax, Petra. I'm just making an observation." She glanced back over her shoulder, her tone dropping slightly. "But I'd be careful if I were you. Sanguinia doesn't take kindly to being challenged—especially not when it comes to something, or someone, she wants."
With that, Hathor strode out of the room, leaving Petra standing in silence. 'Damn her,' Petra thought, frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior.
Taking a deep breath, Petra steadied herself. 'No matter. Jared will be mine, and no one—not Sanguinia, not Hathor, and not any of my other sisters—will stand in my way.'
.
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"Lady Sanguinia, if I may ask, where are we heading?" Jared inquired cautiously, doing his best to keep his tone respectful yet curious. His eyes darted to her face, catching the soft, almost motherly smile that lingered there—a stark contrast to the unsettling energy she exuded.
"We're going to the changing room, dear," Sanguinia replied, her voice smooth as silk. "Your clothes are... less than pristine." Her eyes briefly flicked to his uniform, her gaze lingering just long enough to make Jared glance down at himself reflexively.
'Oh, right,' Jared thought, noticing the state of his uniform. The fabric was crumpled, smeared with faint stains of sweat and grime from the chaotic events of the past few days. When was the last time I changed? Three days ago? Maybe four?
"You're not wrong, Lady Sanguinia," he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "I suppose I've been too preoccupied to notice."
Sanguinia's smile widened ever so slightly, though her eyes held an intensity that made Jared's stomach twist. "That's what I'm here for, dear. To take care of you." Her tone was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something he couldn't quite place.
As they walked, the ship's massive hallways stretched endlessly before them, the metallic floors polished to a mirror-like sheen. Ornate carvings depicting angelic figures and celestial motifs adorned the walls, illuminated by soft, golden light that seemed to emanate from nowhere in particular. Despite the grandeur, the silence was oppressive. Not a single crew member passed by, and Jared's footsteps echoed unnervingly alongside Sanguinia's measured, almost predatory stride.
"Forgive me for asking, my Lady," Jared ventured, attempting to break the silence, "but why is it so... empty here? A ship of this size must have thousands of crew, yet I've hardly seen anyone."
"Oh, they are busy, dear," Sanguinia replied with a silky tone, her lips curling into a soft smile. "My sisters and I decided it would be best to spare you the sight of chaotic crew activity while you're here. It's not something you should concern yourself with."
They soon arrived at a set of massive double doors, their surfaces embossed with intricate filigree and the crest of Sanguinia's Legion: a crimson drop of blood cradled by angelic wings. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a chamber that took Jared's breath away.
The room was impossibly ornate, far beyond what he'd imagined for a mere changing area. Tall gilded mirrors lined the walls, reflecting the warm light from crystal chandeliers that hung delicately from the ceiling. Rows of garments were meticulously arranged on golden racks, ranging from simple uniforms to regal, ceremonial attire fit for royalty. In the center of the room stood a raised platform surrounded by shimmering drapes that danced faintly in the air currents.
Jared hesitated at the threshold, feeling a mix of awe and unease. "This is... far more than I expected, my Lady," he said, his voice trailing off as his eyes took in the opulence.
Sanguinia stepped gracefully past him, her movements as fluid as water. "Only the best for someone under my care," she said, her smile deepening. "Go ahead, dear. Choose something that suits you. I insist."
Jared swallowed hard and stepped inside, his boots sinking slightly into the plush crimson carpet that covered the floor. He moved toward the racks, his eyes scanning the garments as his mind raced. This feels like more than just kindness. Why do I feel like I'm being... watched?
His unease only grew as he felt her gaze burning into his back. Turning slightly, he saw Sanguinia leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed gracefully as she observed him with unwavering focus.
"Take your time, Jared," she said, her voice soft yet commanding. "I'll be right here... watching over you."
Jared scanned through the wardrobe presented to him, his hand brushing over fabrics that were far too extravagant for his taste. Some outfits were adorned with intricate embroidery and gemstones, while others featured designs so peculiar he couldn't even tell if they were meant to be worn or displayed in a museum. Eventually, he settled on a simple yet comfortable tunic and trousers, hoping they would suffice.
"These should do," Jared muttered under his breath, clutching the garments and turning toward the private changing room.
But just as he took a step forward, Sanguinia's voice chimed in from behind him, her tone as sweet as honey but carrying an unmistakable undertone of control.
"Oh, and Jared," she began, her eyes glinting mischievously, "while you're changing, would you mind answering a few of my questions?"
Jared froze mid-step, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.
'Oh no, not this again,' he thought, suppressing a groan. His mind flashed back to Lady Juno's probing questions earlier. Even with Juno's composed demeanor, the experience had been unsettling enough. But Sanguinia? She radiated an aura far more intense, one that left him feeling cornered even in a spacious room.
"I, uh..." Jared hesitated, glancing at her over his shoulder. "Of course, Lady Sanguinia. If it's something I can answer, I'll try my best."
"Good," she replied, her lips curling into a smile that sent a shiver down his spine. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, dear."
As Jared finished tugging the tunic over his head, the muffled yet commanding voice of Sanguinia filtered through the door, chilling him to his core.
"What does 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐀 do with you when you were there?" Her tone was poised, but it carried an undercurrent of menace that made the air in the small changing room feel heavy.
Jared froze, the question hitting him like a hammer. Before he could gather his thoughts, her voice rose again, this time more forceful, dripping with intensity.
"And so I don't suspect you of being a liar, please, dear... ＡＮＳＷＥＲ ＭＥ ＴＲＵＴＨＦＵＬＬＹ."
Jared froze on the spot, his leg feel powerless, his brain froze cannot command him to do anything but his instinct kick it into working.
Jared's voice faltered as he spoke, the words tumbling out in a rush, unsure whether the confession would bring relief or further condemnation.
"Lady Fulgrimia asked me a lot about my personal life," he began, his throat tightening as he recalled the strange, almost unsettling experience aboard her ship. "S-She hugged me… while licking and biting my features. It wasn't… unpleasant, I suppose." His voice grew quieter as he continued, feeling the weight of Sanguinia's watchful presence even through the closed door. "And finally, we had dinner together."
The room fell silent, the air heavy with Sanguinia's scrutiny. Her presence was like a shadow pressing against the walls of the changing room, and Jared could almost feel her gaze penetrating the thin barrier between them.
For a long moment, nothing happened—no sound, no movement. Then, Sanguinia's voice sliced through the silence, low and controlled, yet there was a sharp edge to it.
"Is that all?" she asked, her tone smooth but carrying an undeniable danger beneath it.
Jared hesitated, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He wasn't sure if Sanguinia would believe him, or if she would see the situation in a different light—her own light, where possession and control seemed to lurk just beneath the surface.
"Yes, Lady Sanguinia," he said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible, his heart pounding. "That's all she did."
Another long silence, then a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle echoed from the other side of the door.
"Not unpleasant, you said?" Sanguinia's voice was deceptively light, the soft lilt of her words hanging in the air like a delicate thread, drawing Jared's attention with an unsettling precision.
"Y-You mean that biting part?" Jared's voice faltered, the words thick with uncertainty, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.
"Yes, dear. You said it wasn't that unpleasant, didn't you?" Her tone was still sweet, but there was an undercurrent to it now, something too calm, too measured, as though she were testing him. Her presence loomed beyond the thin barrier of the changing room, her gaze somehow still piercing through it, despite the physical distance.
Jared swallowed, his throat dry. He shifted his weight uneasily, trying to steady himself. "Y-Yes, I suppose so..." His voice wavered, uncertainty gnawing at him. Is that really the right answer? I'm not sure anymore…
"Then, dear, mind if I do that to you?" Sanguinia's voice was softer now, but the implication was sharper, like the hiss of a blade unsheathed. "You wouldn't mind, would you? RIGHT?"
Jared froze, his mind crashing to a halt. What? His pulse quickened. His skin prickled as the weight of her question hit him. I sensed she was like her sisters… but this? The thought left him cold.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Before he could form a coherent response, Sanguinia's voice sliced through the air again, closer now, practically inside the room with him.
"Jared, dear," she purred, and there was an edge to it now, a tautness, like the calm before a storm. "I don't like to be ignored, especially when I've asked a question." The voice that had once been lilting with curiosity now dripped with something darker—something almost unhinged. "Can you ANSWER ME?"
Her tone was sharp, like a whip crack, and Jared could almost feel the insanity simmering beneath her words. His instincts screamed at him to respond, to give her what she wanted, but his body refused to obey. Her presence was suffocating, and the air around him felt thick, as if it were closing in on him.
Fuck. If I refuse... The thought was like a vise on his chest. I'm going to die. She'll kill me. There's no way out of this.
He closed his eyes, feeling the oppressive heat of the room press against him, his throat dry, his voice barely a whisper. "Yes! Lady Sanguinia," he breathed, his words spilling out in a rush, too fast to stop. "It will be my honor for someone like you to... do that to me." His stomach twisted with the taste of the lie, but he knew there was no other choice.
A soft, almost predatory laugh echoed from beyond the door. "I like that answer, dear," Sanguinia purred, her voice warmer now, yet still tinged with something dangerous, something unpredictable.
Without warning, the silence was shattered by a sharp sound—a knock, a command, a presence. "Now, open this door, so we can begin."
"But I still haven't put my shirt on, Lady Sanguinia," Jared stammered, his voice tinged with panic.
"Hehe, that's even better," Sanguinia giggled, the sound unnervingly sweet. The playful tone, however, hid something darker, something hungry. "Now, dear, open the door. NOW."
Jared's heart pounded as he fumbled with the lock. The moment the door swung open, Sanguinia was on him like a predator pouncing on its prey. Her movement was swift, almost inhuman, and before he could react, she had him pinned to the floor, her weight pressing him into the cold ground.
Her breath came in ragged, heavy gasps, a low, almost animalistic sound that reverberated through her chest. It was as if she hadn't seen a meal in days and now, finally, had the chance to savor her catch. The heat of her body burned against his skin, the intensity of her presence suffocating him.
Her eyes—now glowing with an eerie red hue—lingered on him, filled with a feverish obsession. They bore into him, pupils dilated wide as if to devour him entirely. Her lips curled into a predatory smile, and Jared could feel the weight of her gaze on him, as if she was searching for something in the depths of his soul.
"Don't need to tense, dear," Sanguinia purred, her voice soft and tantalizing against his ear. "I promise you'll feel good soon enough." Her breath was warm against his skin, and the words dripped with a promise of something darker. "Good enough that you'll forget all about Fulgrimia."
Without warning, Sanguinia sank her teeth into Jared's bare neck. The sharp sting of pain flared through him, and for a moment, he tried to scream, but no sound came. His throat felt constricted, his voice trapped inside him as if something was silencing him from within.
'It hurts,' Jared thought, a flash of panic flooding his mind. 'But... it also feels good?'
Blood seeped from the deep wound in his neck, the warm liquid spreading across his skin. Sanguinia's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she drank eagerly, as though her very life depended on it, savoring each precious drop.
'I've waited for this for so long,' Sanguinia thought to herself, her mind drifting into a frenzy of satisfaction as she took another deep gulp. She finally pulled away, eyes glowing with a feral hunger. She stared down at him, her gaze cold and calculating as she studied him—defenseless, vulnerable, and hopeless beneath her.
'He's so cute,' she mused, her lips curling into a twisted grin.
"Does it feel good, dear?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock sweetness as she gently caressed the raw mark on his neck, her fingers tracing the wound she had just made. She was pleased, impressed by her own handiwork. She took a sniff at him while waiting for his answer.
"Y-Yes..." Jared's voice was weak, strained from the loss of blood, each word a struggle to push past his lips.
"Oh my, looks like I overdid it," Sanguinia giggled, the sound light, almost innocent. Yet there was a sharpness to it that hinted at something darker. She leaned in, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace as she gently tried to help him to his feet.
What is wrong with these Primarchs? Jared thought, the disorienting mix of pain and confusion clouding his thoughts. 'Is it all of them? Or is it just her and other two?' His breath came in ragged gasps, the sudden loss of blood taking its toll on him. 'I hope, if I meet another one, she's at least... normal. Not like this.'
Sanguinia noticed his struggle and, for a fleeting moment, there was a hint of concern in her voice, almost as if the intensity of her previous actions had melted away. "Well, dear, it looks like we need to pay infirmary a visit," she said, her tone shifting to one of gentle care. It was almost as if the person she was a moment ago had been replaced by someone else entirely. "Let's go, shall we?"
Jared's mind was reeling. His body was weak, but he still managed to respond, though his words were soft, barely audible. "T-that's fine, my lady. Water... food should help." He hadn't eaten or drunk anything for at least a day, and now it felt like the hunger was gnawing at him from the inside out, adding to the haze of dizziness.
Sanguinia's smile brightened, and for a second, it was as if her earlier behavior hadn't happened at all. "Then let's go to the dining hall, should we?" she said, her voice warm, like the change in her demeanor was as natural as breathing.
Jared could only nod, his strength failing him. He tried to push himself up, to move, but his legs buckled beneath him. His body was weak from blood loss, and before he could even think of stopping himself, he collapsed.
Sanguinia was quick, her arms catching him with ease before he could hit the ground. She held him effortlessly, as if his weight was nothing. "Looks like I'll have to carry you then," she giggled, her voice light and playful again. With a strength that belied her earlier demeanor, she lifted him in her left arm, cradling him as if he were no more than a child. To her, it was all too easy, and Jared, in his weakened state, could do nothing but let her.